A couple of weeks went by and the wife’s foot kept bothering her, so we went to see my bone doc. Guess what: her foot is broken. It’s just a tiny fracture in a tiny bone, but it’s in the middle of her foot and hurts like the dickens every time the foot flexes. So they put her into a Frankenstein boot (well, sandal, really) to keep the foot still and said “Wear it for six weeks.” And we’re halfway there — almost.

After that happened and after picking up a month of meds, we decided to opt into the Cobra deal our old insurance offered. Expensive as hell, but the drop dead date is coming up anyway (I have to be insured no later than May 2 to remain eligible for continuing insurance from her next employer without any “pre-existing” clauses), so we did it. Although we have to back-pay the insurance premiums to the point where she left her last job (so that there is a continuation of coverage), I know it’s going to be a pain trying to collect re-payment on all the stuff we paid for out-of-pocket. Of course, it’ll be worth it, if we can get some of that money back.

In the meantime, she’s hopping around, reminding me of Chester from Gunsmoke (okay, I’m old — I get it). So I bought her a cane with a whoppin’ big brass knob (Bubba Stik) to use while she heals. She saw it in the drug store and just had to have it. What can I say? I’m a sucker for my wife when she’s hurting. Hopefully, it’ll soon be standing in the corner and never be needed again.

Hope — I guess that’s the one thing that’s seldom in short supply around here!